Death's Image
by Satanira
Summary: He was created in Death's image, to do Death's bidding. To kill. But can he follow through if it means taking the life of the one he loves? [AU, 2x3x2, yaoi, language, violence, rape]
1. One

Duo knew who he looked like, even if no one else did.

He looked like Death.

They both had long brown braids and violet eyes. They both dressed entirely in black. They both carried scythes. If not for their gender, they could have been clones.

He knew all this because Death had told him. She'd come to him when Father Maxwell and Sister Helen had died and told him that she had a purpose for him. That she owned him, mind, body, and soul. He'd been only eight at the time, scared and alone, so he'd agreed to do her bidding.

Now fifteen, Duo roamed the streets of his home at night, going where Death commanded, killing whom she told him to.

Each time he killed, he left no clue save the Death card of a particularly well-made tarot deck. It sole purpose was to keep others from being blamed for his crimes.

Under his mistress's directions, he took life to save others. Murderers, rapists, sociopaths, all of his victims were criminals in their own right. He stalked and slew, hating it even as he did so, knowing that if he did not, more would die.

* * *

_Duo._ Death's voice resounded in his head, calling his attention from the movie he'd been watching. _Get ready. I have another assignment for you._

"Where?" He asked out loud, flicking off the TV and standing up.

_Downtown. Bring your guns with you; his friends might interfere._ Her presence disappeared; he'd receive further instructions when he got to the designated area.

"I devoutly hope not." He muttered, going down the basement, where he stored his tools.

They were exactly where he'd left them; waterproof black cloak, mass-produced black boots, black leather gloves, obsidian mask, gunbelt and guns, and his scythe, washed clean of any visible sign of blood.

From a shoebox on a nearby table he pulled his calling card, tucking it into a pouch on the belt. He pulled on his work clothes, donning the mask last, then used the magics Death had given him to transport himself to a back alley in the heart of downtown.

* * *

_Prompt as always, I see. _Death sounded amused to Duo's mental ear. _Your target is a man named Dekim Barton._ Hard on the heels of the name came a clear mental picture of the man; a skinny, balding man with cold eyes. _He plans to bomb three theaters tomorrow afternoon. The bombs have been set, but he is the only one who can detonate them. I will lure him to your current location; do not move._

"Gotcha." Duo muttered under his breath, melting further into the shadows so no chance ray of light would reveal him by reflecting off his mask or weapons.

After less than a minute of waiting, Dekim stumbled into the alley, followed by four or five men with a military air and a slim, well-endowed woman with a cascade of chestnut brown hair and the skimpiest, reddest, outfit Duo had seen on her yet.

"I certainly hope you're not expecting me to do all six at once." Death was saying. "I may be good, but I'm not _that_ good."

Duo rolled his eyes behind his mask. Death was far from dead herself; in fact, he didn't know of anyone with a sexual appetite as big as hers. She'd want to have some fun before they got down to business, unless this Dekim was a bad kisser.

_Come out, Duo._ Death instructed him. _The man must have learned to kiss practicing on balloons._

Duo rolled his eyes again and stayed in the shadows until the entire group was well in the alley, then moved behind them.

"Dekim Barton." He barked, gaining the immediate attention of his quarry.

"Who the hell are you?" Dekim asked, his hands still busy on Death's greatest asset.

In a flash of streetlights on steel, Duo made certain Dekim would never ask anything of anybody again.

A bullet pinged off his mask, and he drew his own gun and returned fire. Within seconds, there were only two people left standing in the back alley.

"Well done, pet." Death said, clapping softly as Duo placed the Death card on Dekim's blood-soaked chest. "Go get some rest; you should have tomorrow off." Then she was gone, leaving Duo alone with six bodies and a heavy heart.

* * *

It was all Duo could do to stay awake; he hadn't gotten much sleep last night, and math was boring anyway, since he already knew everything they were trying to teach him. He was two chapters ahead of the class, and the teacher knew it, so she left him alone.

But he still had to stay awake, if only to make sure no one pulled a prank on him. And even that was barely enough to keep him conscious.

Then something came along to snap him back from la-la land.

Something was tall, thin, brown-haired, and green-eyed. He was dressed in jeans and a turtleneck. He handed the teacher a slip of paper and was waved to the empty desk on Duo's left.

"If you have trouble settling in, ask Maxwell to your right." The teacher told the new guy. "I can't guarantee he'll answer you at all, much less help, but..."

Then the lesson moved on, leaving Duo alone with what had to be an angel in his little corner.

"Hi." Tall, Thin, and Gorgeous said quietly, smiling from behind bangs that covered half his face. "My name's Trowa."

_Hello, Sexy._ Duo thought, although he simply raised one hand in greeting before going back to writing in his notebook. He didn't talk to other kids; he had absolutely nothing to say that they'd want to hear.

For the rest of the block, Duo kept sneaking glances at Trowa and writing down what he saw. It was unusual for him to pay so much attention to one person, but it wasn't like anyone would notice. And if they did, who really cared?

* * *

Trowa was a good multitasker; it was no problem for him to pay attention to the teacher and the person next to him at the same time, no matter how much more interesting said person was.

Build was slight from what he could see; face was fine-boned and feminine. Eyes were huge and violet, which also bespoke femininity, as did the yard long braid hanging off the edge of the desk. The teacher, however, had referred to the person as male. Male he was. A very pretty male.

_Down, Trowa!_ He instructed himself firmly. _Remember what happened every other time you jumped first and asked questions after the lynching mob showed up. Not everyone shares your taste in dates._

Of course, that didn't make this Maxwell kid any less attractive; if anything, it just made him that much more so. Lure of the unattainable and all that fun stuff.

_This is gonna be so much fun._ He thought with an inward smile.

* * *

_Yes, this is a very short first chapter, but I wanted to get it up before I forgot it. Tell me what y'all think of it, and I'll get to crackin' on chapter two._


	2. Two

To Kate- Praised! I've been praised by the reader! I was scared people wouldn't like this story for some reason. .;

To MistyPixieGal- Yay! Someone likes my writing style! I'm the happiest girl in the world!

To ZmajGoddess- I'm glad you like this. Like I told Kate, I was a little worried, but the response is good so far!

To Andrea- Yes, I do, don't I?

To Alonelyshadow- Oh, don't worry; I will. Since everyone seems to like this story so much, I'm going to treat it as a highest priority project!

To Robin- Wow, I'm just getting praise left and right on this one, aren't I?

Okay, enough celebrating. Let's get to the story already.

* * *

Duo yawned his way through World History II, waiting for lunch. It didn't help that history was the one subject he had absolutely no interest in, or that the teacher sounded like a bored spokesman at a voicebox convention. It especially didn't help that his worst enemy, one Relena Peacecraft, sat right behind him.

Relena Peacecraft was the stereotypical blond cheerleader from any given high school drama, minus the blond. She never did her work, but somehow never failed a single course. She was the queen of the school, had a huge following, and could get any boy she wanted – except Duo.

Yet the dimwit persisted, sticking love letters in his locker, writing him poems, buying him things, and professing her love for him in the lunch room at least once a week. It drove Duo bonkers.

At long last, the bell rang, and Duo bolted. He had about ten minutes to get to the cafeteria, get his lunch, and dash across the courtyard to the library. If he couldn't manage, Relena would bug him all bell, until he escaped her clutches in Russian.

Braid flying behind him, he charged around the corner and headlong into the star of the football team. Half the team must have been clogging the hall. Today was not his day.

"Sorry, dude," He apologized, backing up a bit. "Didn't see you there,"

"I bet." One of the other jocks commented sourly, glaring at Duo as if he'd just killed the dude's dog. "Probably because you were running all over the school like a baboon on crack, not caring if you ran into anyone or not."

"Look, if you wanna beat me up, can it please wait till after school?" Duo asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "I'm kind of in a hurry here."

"Let him go this time, Wufei," The player Duo'd bumped into said quietly. "You obviously don't know that Relena's somewhere in these halls, looking for our little friend."

"Sucks to be Maxwell, then," Wufei snorted, stepping aside just enough for Duo to squeeze past.

"I owe ya one!" Duo announced to no one in particular, worming past and taking off again.

* * *

Having survived lunch without once encountering Relena, Duo slipped into his Russian I class with a small sigh of relief. He walked over to his desk in the corner – where all his desks seemed to be – and dropped his things. He plopped into his chair with his usual lack of grace and took out his textbook. He was so engrossed in reviewing for the day's quiz that he didn't even notice when someone sat down next to him.

"So we meet again, Mr. Maxwell,"

"Argh!" Duo screamed, almost falling out of his chair. "What the-"

"Sorry; didn't mean to scare you," His new neighbor said. Duo looked up and found himself eye-to-eye with Trowa from math class.

"It's you!" Duo blurted, pulling himself back into a sitting position. "Um… I didn't mean that quite the way it sounded."

"It's okay," Trowa assured him with a curious smile. "I'm used to the reaction. Fancy us having two classes together."

"Yeah," Duo answered, feeling like a moron. He was not one to get all tongue-tied around strangers; especially not strangers around his age. He might not talk much, but he could hold his own in just about any conversation. So why was this one any different?

The bell rang, calling Duo's attention back to reality as the entire class stood to greet the teacher.

"Dobredine," Miss Porivchak said, smiling.

"Dobredine," The class responded.

"Saditen, saditen," Miss Porivchak said, waving for the class to sit. "Kak dila?"

"Harasho," The class responded, taking their seats.

"Stonovava?" Miss P asked. "What's new?"

"Oh! Oh! Me, Miz P!" One of the students in the front exclaimed, waving her arm madly to get the teacher's attention. "I'm going to Ukraine next month!"

"That's nice, Leena," Miss P smiled. The woman was always smiling. It actually creeped Duo out sometimes. "Anyone else?" No one volunteered. "In that case, we have a new student with us today! Mr. Barton, if you'll stand up, please?"

Trowa complied, smiling politely at the teacher. "Stratzvitze, Madam Porivchak," He said, half-bowing. "It's a privilege to finally meet you."

"The same here, Mr. Barton," Miss Porivchak agreed, smiling back. "Now let's get on with today's agenda, shall we?"

* * *

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Trowa truthfully could not remember being so disappointed by that sound. His schedule had been full of Maxwell; first block, fourth block, fifth block, and sixth block, he'd been appointed a seat in front of, next to, or behind Duo, and he was not at all unhappy with that.

Unfortunately, the school day had to end sometime, and it followed that time with Duo had to end as well. So Trowa packed up his things, bid goodbye to his Geography teacher, and left for the student parking lot.

He couldn't decide if Fate was toying with him or not when he spotted Duo not far away, heading across the parking lot.

_Dammit, no one should be allowed to be that beautiful!_ He thought irrationally, tossing his backpack into his car and climbing in himself. It was a lovely '64 convertible that Trowa and his father had restored together over the course of seven years before the man had suffered a fatal heart attack, painted black with silver accents and an intricate Chinese symbol on each door, and Trowa's greatest treasure.

_Well… maybe not _no one_… _He amended, smiling to himself as he slid behind the wheel and started the car. _After all, we all need eye candy!_

"Hey, Duo!" He called, waving to catch the other brunette's attention. "Need a ride?"

Duo jumped slightly and turned towards Trowa. He opened his mouth as if to answer, then stopped, staring at the car.

"A-are you sure it wouldn't be sacrilegious?" He asked finally, shifting his backpack.

"Well…" Trowa said, making a show of acting uncertain, then grinned. "Yeah, she's a beauty, isn't she? A goddess, even. Hop in; she won't mind,"

"With pleasure," Duo said reverently, jumping over the door without opening it. "How the hell can you afford this?"

"It's called a will," Trowa explained, pulling out of the school parking lot and turning left at Duo's indication. "Claudia here was my father's once upon a time; he left her to me when he passed on."

"Oh."

"Hey, don't be embarrassed, dude!" Trowa protested, catching the depressed tone in Duo's voice. "He went the best way possible; in his sleep, painlessly. A hell of a lot better than most. Where do I turn?"

"Next left." Duo answered. "Then the third right. My place is the black one on the right."

"Black?" Trowa repeated, taking the appointed left with a raised eyebrow.

"Not my choice. D- my boss owns the place, not me. She likes unusual stuff. You should see the attic."

"What's she got up there?" Trowa asked with a slight smile, turning right and watching for a black house among the pastel ones lining the street.

"For starters, clothes that would have done Queen Victoria proud, weapons taken during castle sieges, a copy of the Bible she claims dates back to one of the first printings, and a shitload of paintings by famous people," Duo said. "And, we're here." He added, pointing to the appropriate house. There was a red Cadillac parked in the driveway, indicating that someone was home.

"Hey," Trowa said as Duo vaulted the door again.

"Yeah?"

"Think I could meet your boss?" He asked, hoping for a yes.

"Uh…"

"Oh my god, Duo, your friend's got a killer ride!" A female voice exclaimed. A woman with long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, giant violet eyes, and an overly-ample bosom flew across the lawn, skidding to a stop just short of the hood. "This… this is… You own Claudia?" She asked, an odd catch in her voice as she stared down at the car.

"How do you know about Claudia?" Trowa demanded, killing the engine and pulling himself onto the back of the driver's seat.

"But… if this is Claudia, then you must be…" The woman trailed off, turning to Trowa with a look akin to religious epiphany in her eyes. "I can't believe Aurthor Barton's son is sitting right outside my house! In Claudia! Did you know you're famous, kid!"

"What?" Trowa asked, bewildered. "How am I famous?"

"Aurthor went, Claudia disappeared from the streets, and the heir to the Barton legacy vanished! The whole car world was falling all over itself to find you two! Stay right there!" She turned and ran back into the house, squealing.

"Um…"

"She's a car freak," Duo explained sympathetically. "I didn't pay much attention, but about a year ago, she and all her fellow car freaks went crazy looking for this one car that was supposedly legendary. I'm guessing that car was your car."

"I almost regret giving you a ride now," Trowa joked, smiling over at the other teen.

"I know the feeling,"

"Back!" And indeed she was, clutching a digital camera in both hands. "Hold still!" She exclaimed, snapping a series of pictures before tossing the camera at Duo. "Duo, take one of me on the hood, will you?" She requested, hoisting herself up on the warm metal hood with a slightly moronic grin.

"Oy ve…" Duo muttered, rolling his eyes.

* * *

_And now Trowa and Death have met! I love Claudia. I'd draw her, but I suck at drawing cars… How do you like Trowa's legacy?_

_Sorry this chapter is so short, but I wanted to get something out before you all came through the computer and killed me._

_Also, in case you were wondering, that's real Russian I used during the Russian class. I'm in Russian I, and I need the practice..._


	3. Three

To Andrea – Know what? Yeah. I hope I continue, too, but I'm gonna be moving near the end of March, so… yeah.

To Alonelyshadow – I'm so glad you're happy! I love my story, too! I might do something really bad to Trowa, but it won't make them separate! I'll try to update sooner this time around!

To Robin Maxwell – Aren't you just such a poor little reviewer? I'd snuggle you, but you might take that the wrong way… Anywho, I'm working on this story as fast as I can, but I'm sorry to say that if I do, lots of bad things are going to happen to Duo and Trowa…

* * *

"He's cute," Death commented, watching the tail end of Claudia disappear around the corner.

"You think all guys are cute." Duo countered, turning and walking into the house. "Why are you here?"

"Duo, you're mean." Death pouted, following him inside. "Truth be told, I'm in big trouble."

"How so?" He asked, dropping his backpack on the floor and heading to the kitchen.

"I need a date."

"A date?" He repeated, pulling leftover pizza out of the fridge.

"Yes."

"And that has… what to do with the price of yo-yos in Japan?" He asked, taking a bit of cold pizza.

"Weelll…" Death said slowly, pausing before continuing in one breath. "Every ten years God and Lucifer throw a big party in the Nether Planes and all their servants are supposed to attend and there are peace talks and good food and if I don't show Lucifer will take it as an insult since I'm the chief Reaper so I have to go but it's considered bad juju to show up to the party alone so I have to have a date but that jezebel angel Maria stole my date this time around so I have no one to go with so I want to take you."

"Ah, hell."

* * *

"Now, remember, Duo," Death whispered, adjusting her barely legal black leather dress one last time, "don't talk to any of the lesser devils, don't talk back to God or Lucifer, let me do most of the talking, and for Heaven's sake, do _not_ hit on any of the angels!"

"For the last time," Duo whispered back, "I'm nowhere near as horny as you! I can keep my libido under control just fine, thank you very much!"

The large marble doors opened slowly, putting an end to their conversation, and a beautiful alto voice that could be male or female announced from everywhere and nowhere, "Presenting Chief Reaper Death and her foremost servant, the human Duo!"

Death tugged slightly on Duo's arm, leading him into a hall lovely beyond imagining.

The entire room was walled and roofed in the same gleaming white as the doors, with deep windows large enough to admit flying horses, soft tapestries at even intervals, and a ceiling so high he could barely see it.

"Don't stare." Death hissed, calling Duo's attention back to reality just in time to see God Himself.

"Death," The dignified young blond on the right-hand throne said softly, inclining his head at the two.

"Lord Elohim," Death responded, curtsying as best her tight skirt would allow, pulling Duo down in a clumsy half-bow. "Lady Lucifer," She added, turning to the black skinned woman to God's left.

"Death," Lucifer responded, nodding so that pure silver bangs fell across her burning red eyes. "I'm so pleased you could make it on time this decade."

"My escort is somewhat more… compliant than the demon you provided me with at the last Gathering, my Lady." Death responded, smiling politely. "Duo does not insist we stop every five minutes so he can feed off the souls of humans." The Reaper's violet eyes burned with a sort of angry fire, as if nothing would please her more than to lunge at the woman in front of her and rip that obsidian throat open.

"As charming and full of rage as ever," Lucifer remarked to God, flashing a vicious fanged smile in Death's direction. "Are you _sure_ you won't trade her to me? I could put her to such good use in the outer Rings."

God just smiled indulgently at Lucifer and put His pale hand atop her dark one.

"If you will excuse us, my Lord, my Lady," Death said politely, curtsying again and stepping back from the thrones. As soon as God and Lucifer turned their attention to the next pair of guests, Death yanked Duo into the crowd and fought her way to one smooth white wall.

"I hate that woman!" The buxom brunette seethed, growling under her breath. "Every single time, she baits me, hoping I'll get angry enough to loose my position! She can't _stand_ the fact that _I_ was made chief Reaper instead of her!"

"What?" Duo interrupted, confused.

"Lucifer's real name is Cholera. She's about the tenth Lucifer in the history of mankind, and she's wanted to be chief Reaper for centuries at least. She may hold absolute power in Hell, but on Earth, I outrank her, since fifty million treaties say she can't take human life. She's power-hungry beyond belief, Duo, and that's why she'll never get any higher than she is now, and she can't stand it!"

"Oh," Duo said, at a loss for words. "Um… what about God? Is that just a job title, too?"

"No!" Death gasped, looking as if he'd just asked if Death had ever slept with the current Lucifer. "God is God! He could never be replaced! That's very close to sacrilege, Duo, and I'd watch what you say here, because most of those beings wouldn't think twice about ripping you in two with their bare hands."

"Too true," A silky voice to Duo's left said, and a totally nude woman with bronze skin, high, firm breasts, and midnight hair that trailed behind her on the soft carpet separated from the crowd. "And 'twould be a shame, truly, to rend thus such a handsome male, though he doth be human."

"Hold it right there, succubus!" Death exclaimed, interposing herself between Duo and the naked demon. "You know the rules; keep your filthy magic off my servant, or I'll be justified in shredding your wings!"

The succubus hissed angrily, her skin fading to a mottled gray and ugly red bat wings shimmered into view behind her.

"How darest thou, Reaper!" She demanded, her teeth elongating into two-inch fangs against blood red lips. "How darest thou dispel mine illusions! Thou hast no right, foul whore! I'll make thee a carrion feast for the vultures!"

"Hold, Sissa," A weary, scaled demon ordered softly, placing one clawed hand on the succubus's shoulder. "You'll not be the cause of rioting while I have thee with me," it whispered, its long neck weaving slightly so that its slim, arrow-shaped head swayed back and forth. It sighed softly, eyelids drooping over dull blue eyes the size of Duo's fist.

"Is he okay?" Duo whispered to Death, wondering if it was okay to worry about what was obviously a creature of Hell.

"Art thou well, good salem?" Death asked, no concern coloring her voice.

"Aye, though weary enough for three," the scaled demon responded, its whole body swaying. "I thank thee for thy concern, human, and assure thee that my health suffers not so much as my spirit," It said, addressing its answer at Duo himself. Then it slowly began to topple forward, loosing its gentle grip on the succubus.

Without thinking, Duo darted forward and caught the salem before it could hit the floor and wondered why no one else had done the same.

"Are you all right?" He asked, helping it stand upright again.

"Aye…Aye!" The salem exclaimed in wonder. "What magic hast thou cast, young human, to so renew my strength? I have no felt so young in an age! I thank thee with the whole of my heart!"

"What's going on over here?" An irritated female voice demanded as Lucifer herself pushed through the small crowd around Duo and the salem. "What are you doing to my salem, foul human!"

"Nay, mistress Lucifer, 'twas not thus!" The succubus protested, stepping between the raging demon and Duo. "Aged Tesna succumbed to his illness again, and the human lad did save him! Aye, look to Tesna's eyes, Lady! When did they last shine with such light? This human carries some magic that did heal Tesna of the poison in him, I swear it!"

"Thou'rt given to fancies, Sissa." Lucifer said coldly, glaring down at the succubus until the lesser demon bowed her head in defeat. "If the human has such magic, I would see it for myself, not hear it secondhand from a lowly succubus. If he can Heal, let us see him heal old Rend!"

"My Lady, surely you're not serious!" Death protested. "Rend has been ill for nearly a century now, and no one in Heaven or Hell can help him! You can't expect a human to be able to do anything!"

Duo, for his part, just stood there, feeling queasy. He had no idea who Rend was, or what was wrong with him, but Death didn't seem to want him anywhere near this guy. The queasiness increased until Duo realized that Rend wasn't what was making him nauseous; it was whatever had been wrong with Tesna.

"Death?" He said softly, finding he couldn't speak above a loud whisper. "I really don't feel good."

"Art thou ill, boy?" Sissa asked, touching three claw-tipped fingers to Duo's face. "Thou'rt warm, yet thy face is pale. Tell me thou did not take Tesna's poison into thyself!"

"I…I think so." Duo managed, feeling bile well up in his throat. "I'm not sure what I did."

"Is something the matter?" Suddenly God was standing behind Lucifer, His large hazel eyes taking in the scene in seconds. "Has something happened to your servant, Death?"

"It seems Duo took whatever it was that was making that salem sick into his own body, Lord." Death said. "And if it could weaken a salem so much, it's probably fatal to humans." She added softly, biting the tip of her finger.

"That, we will not have," God assured the brunette, stepping around Lucifer and kneeling in front of Duo. "For ashdream may be inseparable from salem essence, but is easily extractable from a human soul."

* * *

"Duo, you have a visitor!" Death announced cheerfully, easing open the door to Duo's bedroom. "Are you up to it?"

"Ugh." Duo responded.

"I'll take that as a yes." Death decided, opening the door wider to admit… Relena Peacecraft.

"Duo, darling, I heard you were sick," Relena said softly, walking over to the bed and kneeling on the floor next to it. "I was so worried about you when you didn't show up in World History. Are you feeling all right? Do you need anything?"

_I'm going to kill you for this._ Duo shot at Death, who was still watching from the hallway, grinning like a maniac.

_You mean you're going to try,_ Death responded silently before clearing her throat. "I'm going to go make some hot chocolate, you two. Want some?"

"Yes, please, ma'am." Relena responded while Duo just did his best to nod.

"Then I'll leave you two alone for a bit. Try not to tire him out, Miss Peacecraft; he's still very weak, and even talking exhausts him."

"Yes, ma'am,"

Death gave Duo a parting grin over Relena's shoulder as she closed the door most of the way and bounded down to the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind me dropping in unexpectedly like this, but I don't have your number, so I couldn't call you." Relena said after a few moments. "I remember you like wildflowers, so I bought you some on the way here,"

"Hn." Duo grunted. Although he would never admit it to anyone else, he did appreciate the girl's thoughtfulness, especially when she put the flowers in a vase of mineral water and arranged it on top of his dresser. She was really very sweet, when she wasn't going after him like he was the last man on Earth.

"I hope you like them. Your mother told me you're getting better, but if you want, I could have my personal physician come visit you just to make sure," She said, kneeling next to the bed again. "I can't stay very long, but you know I'll be thinking of you, right?" She paused for a moment, then went on. "It's strange, Duo; I don't think you've ever been sick before, at least as long as I've known you, which is a very long time indeed. I'm really very sorry, but I need to go now; I have dance lessons, and you know I can't miss those."

Relena slipped out of the bedroom just as Death arrived with the hot chocolate in one hand and Trowa's arm in the other.

"Leaving already?" Death asked, pouting slightly. "And here I went and made hot chocolate and everything."

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Maxwell, but I'm afraid that my parents won't let me break schedule today. Perhaps another time?"

"Definitely," Death said, smiling, as Relena made her way to the stairs. "Come back soon!" She called, leading Trowa into the bedroom and closing the door with her foot. "Rescued by conformity, eh, Duo?"

Duo just glared, trying his best to look threatening; harder than it sounds, when you're wearing nothing but boxers and socks with little penguins on them.

"Hey, Duo." Trowa said, smiling. "You two always this fuzzy with each other?"

"I'm not sure," Death said slowly, setting down the mugs of hot chocolate on Duo's nightstand, "but I think that might have been sarcastic."

"Wow. Nothing gets by you, huh?"

"Look, you," Death warned, shaking a finger at Trowa, "you may be Aurthor Barton's son and Claudia's owner, but that won't stop me from kicking your ass. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly." Trowa answered, still smiling unrepentantly.

"As long as we're clear, I'll be going now. _General Hospital_'s on." Snagging one of the mugs, Death turned and flounced out of the room, ponytail swinging.

"A car freak who watches soups?" Trowa asked, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "You've got one weird boss there, Duo."

"Yeah." Duo said, sitting up all the way and reaching for one of the remaining hot chocolates.

"What I'd like to know," Trowa continued, grabbing the cup and handing it to Duo before claiming the last one for himself, "is how you managed to get this sick since yesterday afternoon. I know what hangovers look like, and this isn't one. You weren't coming down with anything yesterday, yet today you can barely talk. It's strange."

Duo took a sip of his drink, glad he was having trouble talking. Because he was suddenly ceased by a strange desire to tell Trowa the truth; about Sissa and Tesna, God, and especially about Lucifer. Which would either totally blow his cover or loose him a friend, and it's not like he had friends to spare.

* * *

_Oh, yeah. I'm evil. Duo got sick… in a very weird way… and I totally complimented Relena in this chapter. I think I'm gonna go hang myself now._


	4. Four

To Alonelyshadow- It was confusing to write, too… I have to stop doing this to myself…

To Andrea- Well, thank you, then! Yes, Duo with the immortal peoplez is fun. I think I will keep them in the loop.

* * *

"God says a few more days of bed rest, and you'll be fine." Death announced happily, hanging up the phone. "And knowing you, you'll probably be back in school tomorrow."

"Hush." Duo said sourly, managing to look slightly threatening now that he'd lost the penguin socks.

"If you're well enough to argue, you're well enough to bar hop." She countered, flicking the tip of his nose. "Sissa and I are going out on the town tonight, and it might be just what you need!"

"Ugh."

* * *

Five hours later, Duo was indeed slumped on a bar stool next to Death, nursing a quart of whiskey while Death downed bourbon shooters and Sissa went through beers like they were water.

"Ooh, ooh, let's go dance!" Sissa exclaimed suddenly, slamming her empty mug on the bar and grabbing Death's wrist. The brunette barely had time to finish her own drink before she was dragged off to the crowded dance floor, leaving Duo by himself.

With a grateful sigh, he pillowed his head on his arms and closed his eyes. Peace at last…

"Hey, man." A voice behind him said, and someone poked his shoulder. "Wanna dance?"

"No." Duo answered without even opening his eyes.

"C'mon." The voice persisted, and he was poked again. "It'll be fun, honey."

"Don't call me honey."

"Just one dance. Or I'll unbraid your hair."

Without speaking, Duo reached over his shoulder, grabbed his braid, and pulled it to safety.

"Fine." The voice said, and he could hear footsteps receding.

"About damned time." Duo muttered before promptly falling asleep.

* * *

Duo slipped into math and took his seat, wondering how the hell anyone expected him to learn at 7:30 in the morning. Fortunately, he wasn't given to hangovers, or he'd be in twice the pain right now.

The rest of the class drifted in by ones and twos until everyone who was going to be on time today was seated and occupied with waking up, including Trowa.

"It's ridiculous," Trowa said quietly, fiddling with his CD player. "Why they think we'll even be awake at this ungodly hour is beyond me. I say we riot for better learning hours."

"Form a union." Duo suggested around a yawn. "And it's bad enough for normal kids; I have to live with my boss, and she never lets me sleep."

"What did she do? Take you club-hopping?"

"Actually…"

Before Trowa could reply, the bell rang and class began, effectively putting an end to their conversation for the block.

* * *

"Duo, come sit by me!"

"I am not in the mood for this, Relena." Duo ground out through clenched teeth. "Do you think you could maybe leave me alone for one fucking day?"

"But Duo-"

"No, okay? I'm not going to eat lunch with you! Get it through your thick skull!"

Silence fell over the section of the cafeteria around the two brunettes as Relena's eyes filled with tears.

"Duo… what's wrong? Why are you being so mean to me? What-"

"Relena." Milliardo Peacecraft, Relena's older brother and one of only two people in the school with any kind of hold over her, stepped in, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Leave him alone. He's obviously not in a good mood."

"… okay, Milliardo…" Relena whispered, consenting to be led away like a rejected bride. The crowd of students parted for the two, then closed ranks to stare at Duo, probably wondering if maybe he'd been dropped on his head as a baby.

"You gonna keep staring, or you gonna let me eat?" Duo asked, deceptively calm, and the crowd immediately scattered.

* * *

"_Like a clown, I put on a show… The pain is real, even if nobody knows, And I'm crying inside, And nobody knows it but me…_"

Trowa sang the same way he did everything in Duo's eyes; beautifully.

Duo simply stood in the doorway to his bedroom, watching Trowa sing softly to an invisible audience. The other teen was stretched out on the bed, arms behind his head, eyes closed. There was no music to accompany the words, but Duo was certain music wouldn't improve the performance.

"_I carry a smile when I'm broken in two, And I'm nobody without someone like you, And I'm trembling inside, And nobody knows it but me…_"

Duo could truthfully say that Trowa sang like an angel, having heard them during his visit to the Nether Planes. In fact, Trowa sand _better_ than an angel.

"_A million words couldn't say just how I feel; A million years from now you know I'll be loving you still…_"

Looking back, Duo would probably say that's the moment he fell in love. He didn't know at the time why his heart was racing, or why he was suddenly blushing furiously, like he'd just walked in on someone in the shower. All he knew was the beauty of Trowa's voice and the magic of the song.

"_Yeah, I'm dying inside… And nobody knows it but me…_"

* * *

_Time to get to work, Duo._ Death announced in the back of his head just as the phone rang.

"Hello?" Duo heard Trowa say from the hall. "Oh, hey Catherine. Really? I'll tell him. Yeah? I'll be sure and do that. Okay." There was a moment of silence, then Trowa walked into the room, carrying a book in one hand and a cordless receiver in the other. "That was your boss; she says it's time you went home."

"I figured." Duo replied, climbing to his feet and stretching. "It was great hanging out with you. We'll have to do that again sometime."

"How about tomorrow? Catherine asked if she could dump you on me so she can throw a party."

"If you don't mind." Duo said, grinning. "Some of her friends are a little… off. I like to disappear when she holds a get-together."

"See you then." Trowa said, mock-bowing Duo out into the hallway. "Gimme a call before you come, okay?"

"Whatever."

* * *

_Who this time?_ Duo asked when he hit the street.

_Her name's Yuko. She's from Vietnam._ Death said, flashing him an image of a beautiful woman with long, dark hair and narrow, slanted eyes. _She's posing as a prostitute and killing off all her 'customers.'_

"Yikes." Duo said out loud. "Where?"

_The Red Door._ The Red Door was a small, out-of-the-way dive frequented by some of the city's more unsavory denizens, including loan sharks, thugs-for-hire, questionable prostitutes, and a few real weirdoes. Duo would blend right in.

* * *

"You are looking for good time?" A voice behind Duo asked, and a thin hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Depends on who's asking." He countered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure it was Yuko behind him. It was, and he allowed a predatory smile he didn't in the least feel stretch his lips. "And judging by the looks of you, I am. How much?"

"Two hundred." Yuko responded immediately.

"One fifty and dinner." Duo shot back. "More, if I'm feeling generous after the deal."

"Show me." She demanded, claiming the stool next to him and crossing her long legs.

He obliged, pulling out his wallet and flashing three hard-earned hundreds at her.

"Deal?" He asked, slipping his wallet back in the inside pocket of his jacket. He wasn't in uniform; even in the Red Door, he would have attracted too much attention. He was dressed strictly civilian for this job.

"Deal." She agreed, and the two stood and walked out of the bar, passing Death along the way. The two brunettes exchanged a private glance, and Death nodded. She'd make sure everyone in the bar remembered a man with dirty blond hair and a scar across his forehead with Yuko.

* * *

"What do you feel up to, baby?" Duo asked, putting his arm around Yuko's shoulder. "Steak? Chinese? Italian?"

"I would like… good American." She answered, smiling her sweetest.

"Good American the lady wants, good American the woman gets." He said. "I know the perfect place. Through here." He indicated an alley and started leading her to it. She tensed momentarily, then relaxed, figuring he knew where he was going and she didn't, so why worry?

Once they were out of sight of the street, Duo acted, throwing her against the nearer wall with all of his considerable strength.

She slid to the ground, momentarily stunned, and Duo reached inside his jacket and pulled out his weapon for this job – a long black knife with a slightly curved blade and a leather handle. Yuko's eyes widened, staring at the knife, as she wobbled to her feet and tried to run away.

"Where are you going?" Duo asked, grabbing her arm with his free hand. "You've earned this; stick around and enjoy your prize."

"W-why?" She managed, obviously terrified now.

"Did any of the men you killed as you that?" He demanded. "Did any of them beg for their lives? Tell you they had families? Did you even give them a chance to?"

"Who…"

"Death." He answered before she could finish, slicing her throat open in one swift movement. He let go of her arm and let her drop to the alley floor, and forced himself to watch her die. He had promised himself when he first took this job that he would never turn his back while his victim was still alive.

* * *

"Huh?"

"I said," Trowa repeated patiently, "what do you want for dinner?"

"Oh. Whatever you want." Duo said, turning back to the book in his lap that he wasn't really reading. "I'm not really hungry."

"What's wrong?" Trowa asked with a sigh, pulling the book out of Duo's unresisting hands and setting it down on the coffee table. "And don't tell me 'nothing;' I know you well enough to know that that's not the case."

"It's… not something I can tell you." Duo said, avoiding the other brunette's gaze. "I'd get in major trouble if I did."

"Something to do with your job?" Trowa guessed, raising an eyebrow. "Well, if you can't tell me, you can't tell me. But you'd better find someone you can tell soon, or you'll go stark raving mad."

"… yeah…"

* * *

_And here's the end! Of chapter four, anyway. I'm having so much fun with this story, although I think it's going to be shorter than the original ten chapters I had planned. It looks more like it'll be seven or eight, and my fingers are rejoicing. I'm living off tea right now, which is a sure sign I'm inspired about something, so I might get this finished within the next month or two. Don't hold me to that._


	5. Five

_There appear to be no new reviews… Strange… Well, I can pretty much guarantee I'll be getting reviews after this chapter. If I don't, I'm obviously doing something wrong.

* * *

_

_You're making this harder than it has to be._ Death said testily, and Duo could almost see her tapping one foot impatiently. _Why must you always insist on knowing why?_

"Because that's the way I am!" Duo yelled, perilously close to loosing his temper. "I'm not going to go out and murder people just because you tell me to! The deal was that you wouldn't make me kill without telling me how the target was dangerous first!"

_Dammit, Duo, why can't you ever just do as you're told!_ Death shouted, hurting Duo's mental ears. _I'm sick and tired of coddling you like some infant! I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't necessary!_

"Well, I'm not gonna do it!" Duo shouted back. "He's the only thing I've got in this world, and you fucking know it!"

There was silence for a moment, although Duo could still feel Death's presence in the back of his mind. Then she sighed, a sigh tinged with regret, compassion, and no little sorrow. When she spoke, her voice reflected all three.

_If you will not,_ she said quietly, _then I have no choice but to find someone who will._

Then she was gone, leaving only the echo of what sounded suspiciously like a sob.

* * *

Trowa closed his Russian book with a snap, fighting down a yawn. He was tired and hungry and stiff, but his homework was finally done, which was all that really mattered.

Leaving his things scattered across his desk, he wandered into the kitchen and made himself a sketchy dinner of bologna and cheese on white bread, which he carried to the living room, _sans_ plate.

Before he had time to even pick up the remote, however, someone started banging on his door.

Being a nice, friendly guy, he went to see who it was.

As a course of habit rather than any real sense of danger, he left the chain on when he opened the door. It turned out to be a useless precaution.

Almost before he'd cracked it an inch, the door exploded inward, ripping the chain from the wall and showering the foyer with splinters. Trowa counted himself lucky that he hadn't been in the door's path; if he had, he never would have survived the force with which the aluminum slab hit the wall.

Someone clothed entirely in black stepped through the shattered doorway, and the scythe in that someone's hand told Trowa that this was no ordinary break-in.

* * *

Duo was sure that Death wouldn't allow him to teleport to Trowa's rescue; he tried anyway. Nothing happened.

Pausing only long enough to grab a few handy guns, he headed for his garage and the motorcycle there that he was supposed to have.

* * *

Trowa had always considered himself a passably good fighter; he worked out every day, practiced the finer points of several styles in turn, and knew the fundamentals of several more. He knew every vulnerable place and pressure point on the human body. He was exceptionally strong for someone of his age and build.

His opponent was stronger.

The strange man was armed; Trowa had only his hands to fight with. The man was taller, more heavily muscled, and quicker. Trowa found himself being driven further and further back into his apartment, away from the door, the windows, any means of escape.

But for some reason, what worried him more than that - far more than that - was that the intruder struck not to kill or maim, not even to incapacitate, but to weaken.

* * *

Heart in his throat, his mind clamoring in circles, Duo raced through the near-empty maze of alleys and backways towards Trowa. Nothing mattered but Trowa. Duo had to get to him, had to save him from whoever Death had sent.

* * *

Trowa was getting tired fast. It would be a miracle if he lasted another ten minutes.

"Who... the hell... are you?" He asked between ragged breaths, dodging a swipe at his arm a hair too late; the scythe tore through fabric and sliced into flesh, leaving a long, shallow cut in its wake.

"That, you don't need to know," The man said, his voice heavy with amusement. "After all, it's not as if you're going to live long enough to do anything with the information."

Privately, Trowa agreed. Unless some hero of legend rose from the grave to defend him, he was a goner.

Again the scythe descended, tearing painfully into Trowa's arm and rendering the limb useless; now he couldn't fight even if he'd wanted to. Not with one arm dead weight and the other so weak with muscle fatigue he could barely lift it. He was as good as dead, and that was that. No sense delaying the inevitable.

Unfortunately, his assailant didn't seem to think so.

Rather than finishing Trowa off, the mysterious man stepped back, watching as the exhausted teen dropped to his knees, then his side, and lay on the floor, too tired to move or even speak.

He was so tired in fact, that while his brain registered the rough hands sliding under his shirt, he didn't care. He was going numb now, and he didn't particularly notice when the hands worked their way down his waist and under his jeans.

* * *

After what seemed an eternity, Duo finally reached Trowa's building. Without bothering to even park his motorcycle, he vaulted over the low fence and took the stairs two at a time, praying he wouldn't find the only friend he'd ever had dead in his own home.

The door to Trowa's apartment was lying in a warped heap in the entryway; the part of his brain that was forever making inappropriate and out-of-place comments noted that he'd never been this sloppy on a kill.

Duo forced himself to stop in the foyer, out of sight of anyone in the apartment itself, and calm down. If he charged in reckless and blind, he stood a very good chance of getting a bullet in the brain. If he wanted to have a shot at saving Trowa - who might already be past saving anyway - he had to be in control.

_Slow and steady wins the race, Duo._ He reminded himself, slowly edging towards the corner, alert for any sign of movement.

Over the pounding of his own heart, he could hear someone breathing heavily; probably Death's new agent. The sound filled him with an inexplicable feeling of dread, as if it heralded doom for the entire planet, and not just two teenage boys.

Careful to make no noise of his own, Duo eased around the corner into the living room, where he saw something he would never be able to forget, no matter how much he wanted to.

Trowa lay in the center of the room, half-naked and covered in blood that was most likely his own. From where he stood, Duo couldn't see if he was breathing or not. The other teen's shirt was torn in several places, suggesting he'd put up quite a fight.

And kneeling next to Trowa, his face twisted in a grotesque parody of pleasure, was a man in black. Death's agent.

The agent turned slowly to look at Duo, his smile growing even wider. "Run if you wish, little boy," He said quietly. "I'll find you again, never fear."

"You... you... what did you do to Trowa?" Duo asked around the knot of bile in his throat.

"I think you know," The man said, his face twisting inhumanly with emotions Duo could only guess at. "She never told me he was so pretty." He added, turning to brush Trowa's slick bangs away from his forehead.

"Don't touch him, you bastard!" Duo yelled, pulling out the first gun that came to hand and aiming it at the man's head. "I mean it!"

"I'm not afraid of your toys, child."

"You should be," Duo informed him in a low snarl, pulling the trigger.

* * *

_Gods, I can't believe I wrote that! That bastard! Shoot him again, Duo! Kill the bastard! Kill him!_

_I apologize for the incredible shortness of this chapter, but I think it's plenty content-heavy without being ten pages._

_All that aside, please review and tell me whether you want Trowa to live or not. I'm going to go hang myself. This is a sick, twisted chapter, and I can't believe it came from my mind. Eck._


	6. Six

To Andrea- I know. I found your review _after_ I posted the last chapter, however, because I was still living on a steady diet of tea. I'm terribly sorry, and hereby award you the non-existing award of Most Faithful Reviewer. And yes, the death of Death's new toy is well-deserved, isn't it?

To Solo's Ghost- Although it would have made for some interesting possibilities, I'm afraid that Trowa's name really is Trowa in this fic. His father, Aurthor Barton, got mentioned a time or two in the first few chapters, if you'll recall. Death to Death's agent! Strange as that sounds…. Funky rally cry.

To Yazzy- I'm so tempted to let Trowa die just to see how you'd react… And I could keep him alive but vegetative, you know…

To Robin Maxwell- I didn't plan on changing what happened based on the reviews I got. It's the same outline that existed before I posted the last chapter. And although this may sound strange, I'm glad you like the last chapter.

To Remiera- Okay, I think I've kept you is suspense long enough. Let's move on to chapter six before you all kill me, and I'll get to work on the seventh and final installment for you.

* * *

"Can you at least tell me if he's all right?" Duo demanded. "Please, just tell me if he's going to be okay!"

One of the police officers in the room with him cast a fleeting look of pity in his direction before turning away. The other just glared at him, as if suspecting some deep and sinister ulterior motive behind the request.

"Please!" Duo repeated, close to tears now. "Please!"

"Shut up, punk." The suspicious officer snapped, still glaring at Duo. "We don't have to tell you anything, and you've got no right to ask."

"But-" Duo started to protest, then bit his lip. "All right. I won't ask again."

The door to the spacious office opened, and the last person Duo expected to see walked in, followed by yet another police officer.

"Hello," Death said. "My name is Catherine Riker, and I'm this boy's attorney. Why is he handcuffed to a chair?"

"Because he just murdered someone, lady." The officer behind the desk explained curtly, obviously not liking Death one bit.

"Look, Officer..."

"Valgun,"

"Officer Valgun, Mr. Maxwell did not _murder_ anyone. He shot a man in the process of killing his best and only friend. Considering the psychopath in question, he did the world a favor." Death held up a hand to forestall Valgun's protests. "That isn't to say that he is guilt-free. I don't expect him to get off with a slap on the wrist for this. But he is in no way dangerous. You have no right to keep him restrained like this."

"Your client was carrying four illegal weapons when he was arrested, Miz Riker," The female officer spoke up, although she appeared reluctant to do so.

"I'm aware of that already." Death said. "I've read the report, and I know everything you do. By the way," She continued, turning to Duo, "Trowa's still with us. He's in a coma right now, but the doctor in charge of his care is certain he'll pull through just fine."

Duo nearly collapsed with relief, sagging back in his chair. "That's good to hear." He whispered, closing his eyes.

"Now, my client and I have a meeting with the ADA in half an hour, so either uncuff him or loose your chair. The choice is yours."

* * *

"Duo," Death said quietly as soon as the two were alone in the narrow room where they'd be meeting with the DA's representative. "I'm sorry. I had no idea that man would do anything except the job. I didn't know he... he would..."

"I know." Duo told her with a weak smile. "But Trowa's alive, so what does it matter?"

"I fucked this up royally, Duo." Death told him, shaking her head. "You see, the orders I give you don't come from me. God decides who should die; he passes the assignments on to one of the archangels, who give them to me, then I hand them to you. I'm a link in the chain of command, not the head of it.

"For some reason, one of the archangels, Michael, wanted Trowa to die, so he told me that God had decreed it. God gives me reasons, so I thought something was strange when Michael didn't have one, but I carried through with my part anyway. I should have gone back to God and asked Him directly."

"Then... what's going to happen to the archangel?" Duo asked.

"He's already been sent to Lucifer's domain, and one of the Choir has been elevated to take his place." Death told him with a small smile of her own, looking up as the door opened.

"Miz Riker." The thin, dark-skinned man in the doorway said, walking around the table and offering Death his hand. "Joshua Stone, ADA. I understand you want to discuss a plea bargain?"

"What's the use of going to trail?" Death asked, motioning for Joshua Stone to sit. "My client has freely confessed on numerous occasions in the past ten hours that he's guilty. There's no need for a high-profile case."

"And how do you feel about all this?" Mr. Stone asked Duo, raising one eyebrow.

"I killed him." Duo said quietly. "I'm not going to deny it, and I'm not going to try to excuse it. I shot him, and I have to face the consequences now."

Stone, caught off guard by Duo's stark honesty, simply stared at the two for a moment before collecting himself.

"So what do you want?" He asked.

"Man 2." Death said. "No jail time."

"Excuse me? Man 1, 10 years."

"Perhaps you overlooked a few minor details here, Mr. Stone. Mr. Maxwell found the victim in his friend's apartment, sitting in a pool of his friend's blood. The victim threatened to kill my client, and obviously wasn't too concerned about Mr. Barton's health, either. You want a sixteen-year-old boy who was just trying to protect his friend and himself to do 10 years?"

"We have only Mr. Maxwell's word on that threat." Stone reminded her. "And if one teen can get away with murder, others will try, too."

"And if the state punishes a minor so severely for protecting himself, your law-abiding citizens will have a hard time sleeping at night." Death countered. "Besides, all I have to do is outline the victim's past criminal record and mention what he did to Mr. Barton, and the jury will not only acquit Mr. Maxwell, they'll probably want to give him a medal to take home."

"Then why not take this to court?"

"Because Mr. Maxwell has been through enough already. I don't want him to see the inside of a jailhouse. Ever. Especially not in a station where the officers cuff minors to chairs and think it's acceptable!"

"You can't very well expect me to let you have your way here, do you?"

"Fine. You want a trial, you've got it. C'mon Duo." Death snapped, standing and striding towards the door.

Duo stumbled to his feet and followed, wondering what exactly was going on here.

"I thought you didn't want your client to see the inside of a jailhouse."

"I'll post his bail if it comes to that." Death informed the ADA coldly, her violet eyes turning dark gray with distaste. "You'd better come prepared to loose, Mr. Stone, because I am not letting you lock this boy up."

* * *

"How does your client plead, Miz Riker?"

"Not guilty, your Honor."

"What about bail?"

"$5,000, your Honor."

"That's ludicrous!" Death protested with just the right amount of indignation. "My client is an emancipated orphan with a job that barely covers his monthly bills! His only form of transportation is a motorcycle, which the police have already impounded. He doesn't even own a passport!"

"Bail is set at $2,000." The judge said after a moment, giving her gavel a token pound. "Next."

* * *

True to her word, Death posted Duo's bail before he'd been in the holding cell more than ten minutes, then took him immediately to the hospital.

They ran into a small delay when the nurse manning the desk at the head of the ICU hall refused to admit them to see Trowa.

"Family only." The nurse said firmly, looking down at Duo with obvious distaste. "We don't let just any punk waltz into an intensive care unit because he wants to."

"Duo?" A voice behind the twin brunettes asked, sounding tired. "Duo Maxwell?"

Duo and Death turned to face a small, haggard woman with short auburn curls and sad blue-gray eyes. She looked somehow defeated, stress lines crisscrossing her otherwise pretty face.

"Are you Duo Maxwell?" She asked, sighing gratefully when he nodded. "I'm Catherine; Catherine Barton. I'm-"

"Trowa's mother," Duo interrupted, taking her proffered hand in his own. "I know; he's told me a lot about you."

"Is it true what they're saying on the TV?" Catherine asked, the sorrow in her eyes deepening. "Did you kill the man who… who…"

"Yes." Duo answered grimly.

"Good." The woman said, just as grimly. "I'm just sorry Trowa had to… to _suffer_ like that before…"

"It's all right, Mrs. Barton," Death said soothingly, stepping around Duo to embrace the poor woman. "Your son's going to make it; I know he will. And that bastard will never hurt anyone ever again."

"There is that," Catherine agreed softly. "If nothing else, there is that." She paused to wipe her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve before continuing. "I expected to find you in Trowa's room when I got here, since you're out already."

"This young lady here won't let us in." Death said, indicating the nurse behind the desk. "Do you think youcan talk her into letting Duo in?"

"I can certainly _try_," Catherine promised, stepping around the two and up to the desk.

* * *

In no time at all, Duo was in Trowa's room, planted in a chair next to the bed. Death and Catherine were talking in the hallway, their voices a soft murmur that rose and fell at odd intervals.

For some reason, lying there in the hospital bed, Trowa looked much worse than he had in the apartment last night. Maybe it was the fact that without the blood and smashed surroundings, he looked like he should be awake, like he should be sitting by the window reading, or trying to get someone to listen to his CDs, not lying there with his eyes closed and a tube in his arm to make sure he got the nutrients his cells needed.

Whatever it was, it made Duo's stomach churn to see such an alive person so close to death. He'd killed dozens of people over the course of his lifetime, and although he'd regretted it, it didn't haunt him. But this… this was different. This was an innocent person dying for no damned reason at the hands of a psychopathic bastard who deserved a hell of a lot more than a bullet to the brain.

_Dammit, Trowa, wake up!_ He wanted to scream. He wanted to smack the boy that had somehow become so important to him until he opened his eyes again. He wanted to hurt someone. He wanted to cry.

Instead, he just sat there, holding Trowa's hand, praying he wouldn't die.

"Stay with me, buddy," He whispered, closing his own eyes against the glare from the hall lights.

* * *

"I think," Death said quietly, peeking around the edge of the door, "that he's asleep."

"Then we should let him sleep," Catherine whispered, a faint smile crossing her lips. "He deserves some rest, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Death agreed, easing the door closed most of the way. "Would you like to get something to drink?"

Catherine nodded silently, and the two slipped down the hall, past a small blond boy dressed in a candy stripers' uniform. He smiled politely at them before stepping into Trowa's room.

* * *

Quatre smiled in spite of himself. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find one Duo Maxwell in Trowa Barton's hospital room, holding hands with the poor boy and out like a light.

Considering this, he'd felt justified in bringing an extra blanket with him on his rounds; he immediately covered Duo with it, easing a pillow between the other boy's head and the wooden arm of the chair.

_Poor guy must be exhausted._ He thought, his smile taking on a slightly paternal cast. _I hope they make it through this okay._

His mission accomplished, the blond slipped soundlessly back into the hall and continued on his rounds.

* * *

Duo swam up out of a dream in which Trowa was perfectly healthy and teasing him for being so worried. It took him a moment to separate reality and fantasy, but he finally did, and almost broke down crying. Trowa _wasn't_ all right. He would be in the future – maybe – but he wasn't now, and now was all Duo had the energy to think about.

"Duo?" A quiet voice asked from by the door, and Duo turned sharply to see who it was. "I'm not sure if you know me; my name's-"

"Quatre." Duo supplied. "Quatre Winner. What are you doing here?"

"To tell you the truth," Quatre said sheepishly, "I was worried about you. I stopped by last night and made sure you were okay, but I guess I'm just a worrywart. How are you feeling, physically?"

"About as well as can be expected." Duo answered, untangling himself from the blanket that had somehow wound up on top of him during the night. "Emotionally, though…"

"I can guess." Quatre paused, then continued. "I've heard that talking to comatose patients actually improves their health to an appreciable degree. Just thought you might like to know. I need to finish my rounds, then I have a weekend meeting at the school, but my cell number is on the table in case you need me, okay?"

"Uh… yeah." Duo managed as Quatre slipped back into the hallway, leaving him alone with Trowa again.

* * *

"Duo? Duo, we have to go now." Death said quietly. "They're not going to wait for Trowa to wake up for your trial."

"But-" Duo protested, looking up at his boss/mother/older sister, his eyes tired and full of pain.

"I know." Death told him, kneeling next to his chair and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I know, baby, I know. But we have to do this. I wish you could stay here until he wakes up, but you can't. You have to come with me."

"But… just a little bit?" He asked, letting his head loll sideways so that it rested on top of hers. "A few minutes? Just to say goodbye?"

"I guess," Death conceded, reaching up to stroke his hair like she used to when he was eight and prone to nightmares. "But only two minutes; no longer. I'll drag you down to the courthouse kicking and screaming if I have to." She smiled, managing to coax a weak grin out of him before she stood and stepped into the hallway.

* * *

Duo didn't remember much of his preliminary trial; he spent most of it sitting next to Death and staring blankly at the table in front of him. A few of Trowa's neighbors took the stand, as well as an expert of some sort, although Duo couldn't for the life of him remember anything any of them said.

He didn't get to take the stand himself that day; when he was called, he fainted before he made it five steps.

* * *

"And that's what you get for living off soda and the occasional bag of chips for a week." Death announced firmly, tucking Duo into the spare bed in Trowa's room. Catherine Barton had paid to keep it free so that Duo had a place to sleep besides the chair he'd occupied his first night there.

Duo, rather than replying, just groaned and rolled over so he was facing Trowa.

Death laughed, bent to kiss him lightly on the forehead, and ruffled his bangs.

"Get some sleep, kiddo." She told him, walking out the door and closing it firmly behind her. _And stay with us._ She added, her smile fading. _Stay with us just a little longer, my son, and I promise I'll make everything all right again.

* * *

_

"Just us again." Duo said softly, smiling. "I swear, Death's such a mother hen. If you think she's bad now, you should have seen her when she first got me. Every time I so much as skinned my knee, she freaked." Over the past five days, Duo had told Trowa more than he'd told any one person, Death included. "And she was always singing. She sang to me at night when I went to bed, she sang when she played with me, she sang when I was sick, she even sang while we were doing chores. True, she wasn't very good, but at least she enjoyed it." Duo's smile widened as he thought of one song Death would always sing to him to make him feel better. "She was always doing this one song from a movie we watched; it made me feel better every time she sang it to me. I'm not a very good singer, but I'll try, since it's for you, okay?" He paused, as if waiting for an answer, then began to sing very softly.

"_Look into my eyes; you will see what you mean to me… Search your heart, search your soul; when you find me there, you'll search no more… Don't tell me it's not worth trying for. You can't tell me it's not worth dying for. You know it's true; everything I do – I do it for you…_"

He paused abruptly, sure he'd definitely heard something this time. He climbed down from the bed and took the three steps to Trowa's side, searching frantically for some sign that the other teen was waking up.

"Dammit, Trowa," He cursed half-heartedly, taking Trowa's hand in his own. "Wake up! I need you; you're everything to me now. I'm not sure when or how, but somewhere along the line, you became the single most important thing in my life, and it's pretty damned rude of you to not be awake to tell me whether or not you love me, too! So come on, you selfish ass! Wake up!"

"Duo… you're loud."

* * *

_And I'll stop there, because that's such a perfect way to answer Duo's monologue! I have kept Trowa alive and not vegetative just for my lovely readers, and now he'll be able to testify at Duo's trial! The jury's gonna give him a medal to take home! Take that, Joshua Stone!_


	7. Seven

To Robin Maxwell- Don't worry; I'm a shameless self-advertiser, too. I've mentioned a fic or two of mine in a review in the past. And yes, Trowa and Duo make a very cute couple. I wonder why more people don't write them together…

To Andrea- Yes, he lives. No, I haven't introduced anyone but Quatre, Relena, and Zechs, who goes by Milliardo in this one. I was debating adding Heero and Wufei in as major players, but it just never happened. Yeah, seven chapters seems kind of short… But at least I know how many chapters this one is, right? Unlike the Ties that Bind, which could have two chapters to go, or two hundred.

To Keiichisei- Wow! I love your name! As for Duo being Death but still human… Yeah, that is fun. Especially when you toss Death herself into the mix. Trust me, that Reaper is about as human as a demon can get. You like that song, too? Do you know what movie Duo was thinking about, then? I hope you get more into 2x3x2 after this. I love stories with odd pairings in them. 1x2x1 and 3x4x3 are very overdone…

To MistyPixieGal- Isn't it though? It wasn't originally intended to fit so well, but I'm glad it did. I was having trouble finding a song to put there, and I had the lyrics for Everything I Do lying on my desk, so I just used it. Yes, this is the last chapter. As for why Micheal wanted Trowa dead...

To GundamPilot03- I'm glad you like. And I agree with Duo's course of action, too. The bastard needed to be destroyed. I promise, I'm working as fast as I can on the final installment, but it could still be a while.

To Yazzy- Yay! I didn't kill him! I try very hard to keep the characters IC, so you just gave me the greatest praise anyone ever could! I'm so happy!

* * *

"_Trowa!_"

"Ow, ow, ow! Watch the wounds, Duo! Ow! Yes, that's a wound."

After a few seconds of relative silence, Death felt safe enough to peek in and see if maybe she'd started hallucinating.

She hadn't; Trowa Barton was indeed sitting up as best he could with Duo on top of him, trying to hug without hurting.

"Trowa, you're awake!" Duo yelled happily, not caring in the least that he was stating the obvious. "You ass! Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was?"

"I can guess from the reaction." Trowa commented, smiling at Death over Duo's shoulder. "Hello, Death."

"Hello, Trowa." Death replied, wondering just what Duo had been babbling for the past week. "How are you feeling?"

"As well as can be expected." Trowa said. "I seem to have acquired a few bruises and bad memories, but nothing too bad."

"Yeah, right." Duo retorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if you said a sword through your stomach was just a little ache. Your gift for understatement goes way beyond the bounds of normal."

"Look who's talking."

"Enough, boys." Death spoke up gently. "Trowa, I'm going to go tell your mother you're awake; if you have anything private say, do say while I'm gone. It's going to be a while before you're alone together."

* * *

"How did you-"

"Know your boss was the Grim Reaper?" Trowa interrupted, smiling at the expression on Duo's face. "I've seen her before. She came to get my father when he passed on."

"Oh." Duo said, at a loss for words.

"As to your impassioned confession… Duo, do you have any idea how many times I've dreamed of you saying those words to me? How much I've wanted to hear them? How often I've lain awake just thinking about you, afraid that if you knew how I felt you wouldn't want anything to do with me?"

For a moment, Duo just stared. Several emotions flickered across his expressive face- disbelief, fear, understanding; and finally, something akin to ecstasy.

"Dammit, you _idiot_, why didn't you just say so?" Duo demanded, throwing his arms around Trowa's neck again.

* * *

The news of Trowa Barton's recovery spread through the school like wildfire, faster even than the news of the attack on him. Part of the reason for that was one Quatre Winner, who made sure everybody he saw knew. He also made sure that they all knew who Trowa owed his life to, although most refused to believe it.

One person in particular who was causing problems was Relena Peacecraft. Whenever someone mentioned the incident around her, she immediately broke down crying and had to leave the room, sobbing about how Duo was being wrongfully accused and wouldn't hurt a fly and Duo's mother wasn't letting her help at all.

The biggest surprise, however, was Duo's support base; heading the small boy's defense was none other than the star of the football team, Heero Yuy, and his right-hand man, Chang Wufei. Both informed anyone who held still long enough that Duo was a lot tougher than anyone imagined, and they had no doubt the stories were true. There was even talk that they would organize a protest rally if Duo was convicted,

In the midst of all this chaos, Quatre was content to sit quietly and apply himself to his duties as student body president. The blond kept careful tabs of everything that was said, but added nothing himself. He had a few ideas he'd like to share with Duo and Trowa after this whole mess was over, however.

There was no doubt in his mind that Duo would be acquitted. He'd heard of Catherine Riker; she was just about the best criminal defense attorney money could buy, and she wasn't for sale. If anyone could save Duo's bacon, Catherine Riker could.

* * *

"Duo, sit still." Death hissed for about the hundredth time. "Or so help me, I'll ask the judge to send you out."

Duo reluctantly obeyed. Now that he wasn't worried sick about Trowa, he was worried sick about himself. His future was on the line here, after all, and possibly even his relationship with Trowa. Sad to say, he wasn't exactly confident that Death could bail him out of this one; until a week ago, he hadn't even known she was licensed to practice.

The prosecution rested its case on the testimony of an expert on teen violence, leaving the floor open for Death. Joshua Stone looked nervous for some reason, and kept glancing at the two brunettes out of the corner of his eye.

"Your Honor, the defense would like to call Trowa Barton to the stand."

"Objection!" Stone interrupted with a hint of desperation, jumping to his feet. "Trowa Barton is not on the witness list!"

"Surprise witness, your Honor." Death said smoothly. "Mr. Barton has only recently become available. His testimony is vital to the defense's case, as it will establish the emotional duress my client was under at the time of the crime."

"I'll allow it." The judge said after a short pause. "Call your witness, Miz Riker."

"Thank you, your Honor."

An expectant hush fell over the courtroom as Trowa, still confined to a wheelchair and covered with bandages, made his way to the stand.

He was calm; Duo could _feel_ how calm he was. And Trowa's calm helped him settle down a little himself, much to Death's relief.

"Mr. Barton." Death began after Trowa was sworn in, pacing slowly up to the witness box. "Tell me, are you aware of why you're here today?"

"To testify on behalf of Duo Maxwell." Trowa answered quietly.

"And do you know what Duo Maxwell is being charged with?"

"Murder." This whole song and dance was nothing new; Duo, Trowa, and Death had gone over what would most likely happen when Trowa took the stand several times, not including the private discussions Trowa and Death had engaged in while Duo was resting.

"Tell me, Mr. Barton, what is Mr. Maxwell like?"

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Trowa asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Is he a violent boy?"

"By nature, no. By necessity, yes."

"Has Mr. Maxwell ever willfully harmed you or anyone you know?"

"No."

"Do you know whose murder Mr. Maxwell is being tried for?"

"No; the victim and I didn't have much of a chance to get aquainted."

"Mr. Barton, would you mind telling the jury what happened in your apartment on Sunday, April 10th of this year?"

_Yes._ Trowa said quietly, although his lips didn't move. "Do you want me to start before or after a psychopath with a scythe broke into my home?"

"After will work, Mr. Barton."

"Well, in that case, I got my ass kicked, my arm nearly chopped off, and my virginity stolen." _That bastard._ Again, Trowa's mouth didn't move, although Duo was sure he'd heard the quiet boy's voice. _What the hell did he want with me? Why? What did I ever do to him? How can he be looking at me with so much concern in his eyes? How can he stand to be in the same room as me?_

After a moment, Duo realized that Trowa was no longer refering to his attacker; now he was talking about the boy being tried for murder here. Nor was he speaking; Trowa's thoughts themselves were pouring into his mind now, the way Death's did when she was upset.

_Because I love you._ Duo thought, pushing the simple message towards Trowa and hoping the other boy received it. _I love you, you ass. What that bastard did has no bearing on how I feel about you, except maybe to arouse certain slightly maternal instincts._

Trowa, who was in the middle of giving Death the gruesome details, paused, his face taking on a shocked expression so slight that Duo was probably the only one to notice. The unabang began speaking again, but the words Duo heard were different.

_You can... hear me?_

_Every friggin word, buddy._ Duo assured him. _And if you keep thinking that way, I'm gonna have to do something about it._

_But... Duo, I'm spoiled goods. Surely you realize that!_

_Not in my eyes, you aren't._ Duo said firmly. _Now pay attention to Death before she wipes us both off the face of the Earth, okay?_

Trowa's testimony continued uninterrupted by telepathic love confessions, and Death wrapped it up smoothly.

"No further questions, your Honor." Death said with a slight smile, turning on her heel and walking back to her seat. "Now we see what Stone does." She muttered darkly to Duo, glaring across the courtroom at the ADA.

"No questions, your Honor." Stone said wearily, and Duo felt defeat rolling off the attorney in waves.

* * *

In less than an hour, the verdict was announced; Duo was a free man. They'd won.

And the only thing Duo cared about was that he wouldn't have to leave Trowa.

* * *

"Duo?" Death said quietly, peeking into Duo's bedroom and hoping she wasn't about to witness something she'd rather not. "Trowa?"

"Hmm?" Both boys were lying on Duo's bed, fully-clothed, and neither's mind smelled of sex. Well, maybe there was hope for this generation yet.

"Duo, we have to go. Trowa, too."

"Go where?" Trowa asked, sitting up and dragging Duo with him.

"To meet God." Death said, smiling at the pole-axed expression on Trowa's face. "He wants to talk to all three of us. And when God says move, we move."

"Yes, ma'am." Trowa agreed with a salute, standing up. As soon as they'd released him from the hospital, he'd gotten rid of his wheelchair, relying on his own two feet and Duo to get him where he needed to go. "Let's get going, Duo."

"I don't wanna." Duo pouted, although he did drag himself out of bed. "I wanna sleep."

* * *

"This place looks huge when no one's here." Duo commented, looking around at the white marble walls and gigantic windows. "And just a little creepy."

"_I_ think it's nice." Trowa said, smiling slightly. "Wouldn't want to live here, mind you, but it's a feat of architecture, to be certain."

"It was constructed entirely by magic." Death informed them. "The angels made the marble, and the devils shaped it into this. I actually helped carve the engravings on the door."

"No way!" Duo exclaimed, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

"Yes, way." Death disagreed. "And keep your voice down."

"Death." God said calmly when the three reached His throne. "Duo. Trowa."

"Lord." Death responded, dropping to one knee and signalling for Duo and Trowa to do the same. "To what to we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"I have an explanation to give." God said, His handsome face taking on a slightly guiltly expression. "Firstly, I apologize for the actions of My angel, and assure you that he has been well-punished." He turned to Duo and smiled. "And have you found the object of your quest?"

"Yeah." Duo said, blushing slightly. "I guess you could say that."

"Do not be embarrassed of something so pure as your love for My Child." God said, the capital C on child evident in His voice.

"Child?" Death repeated, sounding slightly alarmed. "Lord, tell me you're not serious! If Trowa was your Child, I would surely have sensed it by now!"

"You most certainly would have, if he did not have a seal set on his powers."

"What's the Child?" Duo asked, frowning in confusion. "What's going on?"

"The Child is a mortal with power to rival that of an angel." Death explained. "It's said that when the Child comes, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. If he lives, prospers, and finds love, then the world is safe for a few thousand millenia. But if he dies before he finds love, then the world is doomed. His death would release a tremendous amount of energy into the Earth. Enough to melt the crust and freeze the core. Maybe even enough to destroy it outright. One of the missions of the Reapers is to keep watch for the Child, and protect him from harm when he does appear. But why would Micheal want the Child dead?"

"Maybe he wanted the world to end." Duo suggested. "Maybe he doesn't like humans or something. Or maybe he was crazy."

"Or perhaps all three." God interjected. "When his vendetta failed and he was sent to Lucifer's domain, Micheal lost all semblence of mind and thought. He is no better off than a newborn human."

"Helpless as a baby kitten, huh?"

"Precisely so, My Child."

* * *

"So that was God, huh?" Trowa spoke up idly, as if commenting on the weather. "Have you met Him before?"

"You remember that time I got really sick overnight?" Duo asked, continuing when Trowa nodded. "Well, I went to a big to-do in the Marble Hall with Death and got myself poisoned. God sucked whatever it was out of me. It took a few days, but He did it."

"I would have given anything to see that party." Trowa sighed wistfully, his eyes bright with imagination.

"You want me to tell you?"

"Would you?"

"Okay. First of all, I have to tell you about Lucifer! The woman is beautiful, but psychotic. She-"

* * *

Death smiled to herself and closed the bedroom door all the way, giving Duo and Trowa some privacy.

"Those two are going to make things interesting around here." She commented softly.

"Methought that was my job." Sissa pouted, draping her arms over Death's shoulders and burying her face in the brunette's hair.

"Only in the bedroom." Death countered. "What say we go introduce my bed to its newest occupant?"

"I thought thee'd never ask."

* * *

_Done! Finito! My first completed multi-part fic! I'm so proud of myself for seeing this through to the end!_

_I'd just like to thank all the people who reviewed this story and encouraged me to keep going! You kept me from giving up so many times, and I don't know how I can thank you enough! Thanks also goes to my little sister Immortal-pain, who inspired me to keep at it, if only to spite her; Link Worshiper, who helped me improve without even knowing it; again, to the reviewers, who were the only reason I kept going at times; to the creators of Gundam Wing, because without them, I wouldn't have such wonderful characters to work with; and last but far from least, I offer graditude to my mother for encouraging me to write and putting up with my fits when the story wasn't going my way._

_Thank you, everyone! I could never have crossed the finish line without you!_


End file.
